


What our whispers say

by charlotteailleurs



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03, elu - Freeform, soft boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 14:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18209399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteailleurs/pseuds/charlotteailleurs
Summary: Pas peur, pas peur. Pas peur.It's what Lucas' sighs are whispering as Eliott lies on his chest and breathes in warm little puffs against his collarbone.





	What our whispers say

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Ce que murmurent nos soupirs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18207782) by [charlotteailleurs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlotteailleurs/pseuds/charlotteailleurs). 



> This is the translation of my first fic ever, I hope you like it ! If you do (or don't) don't hesitate to drop a comment, even if it's to say one word. 
> 
>  
> 
> I situate this at some point after season 3.

Pas peur, pas peur. Peur.

It's what Lucas' sighs are whispering as Eliott lies on his chest and breathes in warm little puffs against his collarbone. His messy, untidy hair (beautiful, Lucas' favorite place to thread his fingers into) tickle his chin and the side of his neck. Eliott's body is a warm steady weight, reassuring, held so flush against Lucas' that it almost merges with his own, something he can hang unto, draw warmth from. Through the half-shut blinds the headlights of the occasional car cast moving pools of light on the walls and their barely moving bodies.

 

Eliott shifts a little, goes up by a few inches until his lips meet the simmering skin right above his pulse point. With a pleased sigh, he cirlces Lucas' chest with his arms and draws him closer - if that's even possible. 

 

It's my boyfriend, thinks Lucas in a loop, until his head spin. Even now, the idea of him, the word boyfriend, knowing that Eliott loves him fills him with incredulous euphoria. It's almost too much ; flashes go through his head. ELiott covered in paint. Eliott giggling at one of his one dubious jokes. Eliott gazing tenderly at him. Eliott, mouth hanging half-open, head thrown back as he lets out a moan of pleasure. Eliott crying, in silence, in the dark of his night, and Lucas' heart breaking with each sob. Eliot dozing off, eating, running, drawing, studying, absentmindedly slipping his hand in his boyfriend's own, living as best as he can, Eliott. 

 

He got lost in thoughts and Eliott gently brings him back to earth. He is on his elbows, hovering above Lucas' face.

"You okay?"

His voice is barely above a whisper. They are both so scared to break their quiet moment. Lucas nods.

 

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm okay."

 

The smile that is pulling at Eliott's lips - even if it's barely there - makes his stomach jump in a slow sommersault. The corner of his eyes crinckle, he catches a flash of his white teeth in the dark, his eyes get somewhat sparkly: Eliott is smiling and it's one of the most beautiful things Lucas has ever seen. He will always treasure moments like these, when it's just the two of them and the breaths they share, when they bask in lazy love, slow, languid and carefully improvised. 

Eliott kisses him, once, twice, three times, before leaving wet kisses on his jaw and behind his ear. Lucas laughs softly, intoxicated by the quiet surge of his ministrations. He doesn't know if the whisper he's hearing is eminating from Eliott's gestures or if he drops "not scareds" and "I love yous" and "not alones" and "Lucas". His body progressively covers his boyfriend's, who slips his hands underneath his crumpled shirt - he desperatly needs to slide his hands on the warm expanse of his golden skin ; to feel his lungs expand and deflate, his muscles shift underneath his fingers. Things get needier - not by much, just a little - when Lucas hitches up his legs on the sides of Eliott's hips and holds him flush against him, when warm starts inching towards heated. 

 

It's okay, Lucas thinks. It's going to be okay. As long as there'll be days when they can bathe in the golden hue of their shared love, it will be okay.


End file.
